suskay

The Circle by Somerset Maugham is one of those dated stories of adultery among the upper classes of England where no one behaves much like a recognizable human being (see Maugham's charming and more satisfying The Constant Wife). This stage to screen adaptation succeeds more than expected, largely because of intelligent direction by Frank Borzage and a great performance by supporting player Eugenie Besserer. Lead actress Eleanor Boardman is a beauty but at a disadvantage in a story that cannot take advantage of her naturalistic style. The real reason to see this movie is the terrific performance of Eugene Besserer as Lady Catherine, who ran away from her marriage 30 years before and is only now being reunited with her adult son (her younger self is played, fleetingly, by Joan Crawford). Brought back to the estate to see if "forbidden love" can endure, she sails back in as an aging flapper in a bountiful blonde wig. A confrontation with a photo of her younger self gives her the oppotunity for a bit of pathos, which she exploits beautifully. Besserer would earn a place in history a few years later as Al Jolson's mother in the groundbreaking sound film, The Jazz Singer, in which Jolson improvised the first dialogue heard in film in a scene with her. The Circle manages some nifty physical comedy, such as the scene where the concerned family is steathily trying to separate their father from his shotgun. Many a scene like this depends on the style of the play -- stiff upper lip and so forth -- so modern audiences may be a bit puzzled. And even more puzzled by Boardman's character loving her man because he threatens to punch her in the eye.

Marian Marsh radiates intelligence and charm as the focal point of this lightweight romantic drama. She and her suitor, William Bakewell, (slightly prissy and stiff but looking like he was carved out of marble) meet not so cute -- he runs her down in his speeding car. The title character played by Christian Rub is a hospital clerk who is a sucker for sob stories. Persuading the driver not to confess to his crimes but woo the girl instead, he sets events in motion. After falling in love over Marsh's hospital bed, the lovers run into obstacles. She is an aspiring musician who was on her way to to accept her rich patron's offer of support, sans marriage, when she was convenently run down (and suffers no aches or pains afterward despite being brought into the hospital unconscious). He comes from a high society family that will not accept her. Edmund Breese is impressive as the hero's easy-going father. Owen Moore is second-billed in the part of Marsh's rich patron-to-be, but he has only a few scenes, which he discharges with freeze-dried wordliness and substantial lockjaw. The early hospital scenes are full of ethnic and sexual stereotypes and some lame attempts at comedy, but they do communicate well the atmosphere of the hospital receiving room, tedium and all. The apparently Jewish landlord of Marsh's building is another matter: a very offensive stereotype. Mildred Washington is delightful in her few moments as a pre-Code housekeeper (you can date the moment the Joseph-Breen-led Code came down in late 1934 by when slim, attractive black actresses were banished from the screen).